


Desperate Times

by Sue Corkill (mscorkill)



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-03
Updated: 2012-05-03
Packaged: 2017-11-04 18:32:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/396916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mscorkill/pseuds/Sue%20Corkill
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam discovers she can’t deny the feelings she has for Jack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate Times

**Author's Note:**

> Written with a prompt from the sjfanfic10: “Sam is on a date and bumps into Jack, frustratingly making her realize that she's not doing herself or the guy any favors by trying to bury her forbidden feelings.” I hope I’ve taken this suggestion beyond what could so easily be a cliché. 
> 
> Originally posted July 2006.

DESPERATE TIMES

“Janet, I don’t know…”

“He’s just my cousin, Sam.” Janet stepped back and surveyed the results of her handiwork with the curling iron. It had taken patience, but Sam’s short hair was a riot of soft curls; her blonde hair contrasting perfectly with the dark blue sheath she wore, imbuing the simple ensemble with a sexy elegance. “It was either this or an escort service.”

Sam turned away from the mirror and placed her hands on her hips, her smile wry. “Thanks, Janet. So I’m just a substitute for a high-priced call girl?”

Janet smiled, not at all deterred by her friend’s reluctance. “Listen honey, he’s from out of town and he needed a date for this banquet. You need to get out more and besides he’s a nice guy.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’re right Janet. It’s just…” Sam sighed. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve been out on a date.”

“I know, honey.” Janet gave her a quick hug, careful not to wrinkle her dress—or ponder the glaring reason why Sam didn’t date. It was enough that tonight she was actually going out with a man instead of staying at home alone and yearning for what she couldn’t have or worse yet, working in her lab and still yearning. “He’s just in town from Salt Lake City for the weekend,” Janet pacified her friend. “It’s not like you’re signing up for life.” 

“I supposed you’re right,” Sam sighed, still not looking convinced. With another reluctant sounding sigh, she picked up the poncho that was carefully laid out on the bed. “Help me with this, okay?” Janet took the midnight blue sequined and fringed velvet poncho Sam handed her and helped her get it on over her head without destroying all their hard work. Sam looked in the mirror, a skeptical look on her face.

“It’s perfect! Don’t you dare take it off!”

“If you say so, Jan.” Sam lifted her arm, the fringe dangling a good six inches. “I just hope I can eat dinner without getting these tassels in my food.”

Janet shook her head and handed Sam the black clutch. “You have your cell phone?” Sam nodded, taking the purse and checking the contents. “And my number is programmed in it?” Sam rolled her eyes, but nodded. “Good,” Janet said, just as the doorbell rang. 

“Remember,” she added, following Sam down the hall, “if worse comes to worse, you can call me and I’ll come get you, okay?”

Sam paused in the foyer. “May I remind you that this was all your idea?”

Janet smiled and gave her a quick hug. “Just in case, honey.”

Sam just shook her head and Janet stepped aside, letting Sam open the door as the doorbell rang again.

“Ms. Carter?”

“Ian!” Janet squeezed past Sam. “Let me introduce you to Samantha Carter.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

To Sam’s surprise, it had been a nice evening. Ian was smart, funny and modest—a surprising combination in a physician receiving a humanitarian award, Sam thought. He’d been genuinely touched and exhibited just the right touch of humility and self-deprecation when he accepted the award. Which was part of the reason she’d agreed to after-dinner drinks in one of the numerous bars in the elegant, old Broadmoor Hotel. It would get awkward if he expected more than just a friendly handshake or peck on the cheek when they said goodnight, but so far he’d been the perfect gentleman and she had enjoyed herself.

After being escorted to a secluded, corner table in the quiet bar, Sam had excused herself and headed to the Ladies Room. And the Ladies Room was…awesome. She’d been in some posh ladies lounges before, but this one was incredible. The anteroom was lush and nicer than her living room, and lots of people’s living rooms, she suspected. The muted lighting, plush carpet and furniture all screamed of old world elegance.

The bathroom itself was just as elegant, lots of wood and soft lighting. The quiet told her she was currently alone, so she entered one of the closer stalls—which was surprisingly spacious—and got down to business. Just as she set the latch, she heard the main door to the lounge open.

“Did you see those two who just walked up to the bar?”

The woman’s voice was just loud enough to tell Sam that she was drunk.

“Who?” a second, slightly slurred voice asked.

“That silver fox and his hunky friend.”

The second woman laughed, her voice low and husky—and obviously inebriated. “You mean that old guy with the regulation haircut and the black body guard? They’re probably gay.”

“No!” the first woman insisted, the stall door next to Sam suddenly slamming. “I refuse to believe two men that look that hot are gay.”

Another stall door slammed. “Face it, honey. If they’re not gay they’re probably divorced and paying tons in alimony and child support.”

Sam winced when she heard the sound of the woman in the stall next to her retching. Hurriedly finishing and barely taking time to appreciate the luxury of the sink area, Sam washed her hands and had just turned off the taps when she heard one of the toilets flush and a stall door swing open. Glancing down the row of stalls, she saw a tall brunette standing outside the occupied one.

“Dana? Let me in, sweetie.”

“Oh god, just a sec.” The unfortunate Dana only moaned, before the sounds of heaving started again.

Sam tossed the soft, cloth towel into the wicker hamper and beat a hasty retreat out of the bathroom, leaving the two women to deal with their misfortune. But…the description of the two men they thought were so hot reminded her of two men she knew. She was sure it was just a coincidence, Colorado Springs was a large city and the Broadmoor pulled guests from all over the world, there had to be other men that fit that exact description besides the Colonel and Teal’c. The short corridor to the Ladies Room ended and Sam paused; it was dimmer in the bar than it was in the ladies lounge and she frowned, reorienting herself and looking for their table and Ian, when she saw them. 

Her heart started racing and she got a queasy feeling in her stomach—and like the unfortunate Dana in the bathroom, she felt like she wanted to puke her guts up. What on earth were the Colonel and Teal’c doing in the West Lobby Bar in the Broadmoor Hotel on a Saturday night? They were sitting at the bar and Sam could understand why the two women had been drooling over them. The Colonel looked…well, he looked good to her no matter how he was dressed, but tonight? Tonight he was wearing black trousers, a black sweater and there was a black leather jacket draped over the bar stool next to him that she just knew was his. God help her, the black ensemble combined with his silver hair made him look unbearably handsome.

And while she generally didn’t pay that much attention to Teal’c, she had to admit he looked very striking. He was the only person—or alien—that she knew who could pull off a black fedora combined with a blue, white and gray Hawaiian shirt and black trousers. At least he wasn’t dressed like some urban cowboy. Sam wondered briefly if she could make her way back to her table without the two men spotting her when Teal’c suddenly looked directly at her. If he was surprised to see her, it didn’t show on his face, he merely inclined his head and then murmured to O’Neill.

The Colonel turned on the barstool, a shot glass in his hand, and looked her way. His eyes held hers for a long moment and she felt trapped in their dark depths. An uneasy combination of guilt and defiance filled her; guilt because it had been less than six months since Martouf’s death and the whole za’tarc debacle and defiance because the bastard had agreed with her when she said they could ‘keep it in the room’. A crooked half smile touched his lips and he lifted his glass in a salute. Sam took a deep breath and acknowledged both men with a bright smile and brief nod, before weaving her way as casually as she could through the tables and back to Ian. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack watched her through narrowed eyes; she’d done something different with her hair and his fingers itched to ruffle through the curls. But instead, he raised his glass in a toast; which she acknowledged and then walked away. He couldn’t help but follow her progress though, she moved with her usual grace and he watched the gentle sway of hips as she made her way through the lounge, the long line of her shapely legs revealed by the modest dress And then he saw the man at the corner table and the way her face brightened as she approached him and her welcoming smile. Exhibiting old world manners, the well-dressed man stood and held out her chair for her; his hand resting briefly on hers when he sat back down. 

Jack turned his back on them and tossed back the scotch, motioning to the bartender for a refill. 

“Is that wise, O’Neill?” Teal’c murmured.

Jack tossed back the second shot. “You have a driver’s license,’ was all he said, once more beckoning to the bartender. “Besides,” he said, “this was your idea.”

“I merely wished to discover the appeal of O’Malley’s.”

Jack frowned at the obvious tone of censure in Teal’c’s voice. “Hey, it’s not my fault they still remember us.” Teal’c raised a skeptical eyebrow. “All right, recognized me.” 

The manager at O’Malley’s had been apologetic, but firm, when requesting that he and Teal’c ‘please’ take their business elsewhere. They’d taken their business to a steak house not too far from the Broadmoor and then, for reasons that still weren’t entirely clear to Jack except that he was unexpectedly reluctant for the evening to end and return alone to his large, empty house, he’d persuaded Teal’c to go for drinks with the lame excuse of ‘picking up women’. Teal’c had raised an eyebrow at that too, but had refrained from making a comment, simply nodding and following him out of the restaurant.

“Do you see any women you wish to pick up, O’Neill?”

Jack glared briefly at Teal’c, wondering when the Jaffa had taken up mind-reading, but eventually he swiveled the barstool and glanced around the moderately crowded lounge. There were a number of small groups of couples, even some women who looked to be on their own, and five minutes ago he would have told Teal’c he wasn’t interested. But now…now he felt a certain wildness building inside him, kindled by the unexpected sight of Sam in the bar…with a date. 

There didn’t seem to be too much action in the bar though and he was about to suggest they leave when his attention was caught by two women who had just emerged from the same general area where he’d first seen Sam—a slender blonde and a tall, attractive brunette.

The blonde saw him looking at them and a huge smile filled her face; she said something to the brunette, who appeared less enthusiastic, but the blonde must’ve been persuasive because when she started walking toward the bar, the brunette followed. Any other night he would have nicely—but firmly—persuaded the two women to look elsewhere for male company. But then he heard Sam’s laugh above all the other noise in the bar and he felt like a knife was ripping into his gut. 

Ignoring his gut, and Teal’c’s silently arched eyebrow, Jack forced his most charming smile onto his face as the two women got closer. “May we buy you ladies a drink?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam smiled and tried to concentrate on the story Ian was telling about his recent two month volunteer stint on the USNS Mercy but she was distracted, unable to be anything but be totally aware of the Colonel and Teal’c. She’d seen the two women who had been in the bathroom with her come out and immediately latch onto them—just like the blonde one had talked about while heaving into the toilet.

It infuriated her to see those two...bimbos hitting on the Colonel and Teal’c. She knew she had no good reason for the jealousy churning inside her. O’Neill was a free-agent; the two of them were both free-agents, she had certainly seen to that. So it was nobody’s fault but her own that he was flirting with two drunken floozies and she was with another man when by rights she should have been with him. 

There was a gentle touch on her arm. “Earth to Sam.”

“Oh Ian, I’m sorry.” Dragging her eyes from the scene playing out at the bar, she attempted a smile. “You were saying?”

“Somebody you know?” he asked, gesturing toward the bar.

Automatically looking over at the bar, she saw that the blonde—who had to be the previously unseen and puking Dana—had insinuated herself between Jack’s legs, while the nameless brunette hovered over Teal’c. Looking back at Ian, Sam tried to smile again, sadly aware that it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just a couple of the guys I work with.”

Ian’s smile was warm and just a shade too understanding and she realized dismally she wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all herself. It wasn’t fair to Ian when he hadn’t done anything but get caught in the middle of her messed up emotions. Maybe it was time to make a graceful exit. “It’s been a lovely evening, Ian.”

“But it’s time to go home?” he asked, a wry smile touching his face.

“I’m just not—“ She wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but she felt like she owed him some kind of explanation.

He reached out and covered her hand with his. “I understand, Sam. Let’s just leave it at a nice evening?” 

“Janet was right.” Sam stood when Ian did, taking the arm he offered. “You are a nice guy.”

“So that’s why I feel like I’m finishing last?” he asked lightly, leading her through the lounge.

Her smile was genuine then. “No, not last.” They were at the entrance to the bar and she stopped, pressing a kiss to his cheek, oblivious to the man watching them from the bar. “Just not first.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dana had her breasts pressed up against him and had started to whisper lewd comments into his ear regarding her tongue and certain parts of his anatomy. It wouldn’t be so bad if he couldn’t smell the liquor on her breath—and if Sam wasn’t sitting in view, cozily ensconced with her date. He saw them get up and his eyes narrowed at the way she clung to the man’s arm and then the obvious and very public show of affection when she kissed him. He watched them until they disappeared from view and he wondered acidly if they’d gone up to one of the hotel’s elegant rooms. 

Jack didn’t flinch when Dana’s tongue snaked into his ear, but the revulsion he felt was almost immediate. Jack had a bitter taste in his mouth that had very little to do with the woman currently groping him and everything to do with the cool blonde who had just left with another man. This was so not going to work; there was only one woman he wanted to pick up. Effortlessly extricating himself from the intoxicated Dana’s clutches, Jack stood, and ignoring the woman’s soft mew of protest, tossed back the last scotch the bartender had brought him. Still ignoring the sniveling blonde, Jack tossed some bills down on the bar. 

“O’Neill?”

“Let’s go,” was all he said to Teal’c, grabbing his jacket. Teal’c nodded, apparently not too upset at the thought of leaving, even though the initially reluctant brunette was clinging and pouting now as well. 

“But, we were just starting to have some fun!” the blonde whined, clutching at his arm.

Jack shrugged her off and pulled another twenty out of his wallet, tucking it into the ample cleavage displayed by her low-cut dress. “Have a drink on us.” He walked away then, not sparing another thought for the two women and confident that Teal’c would be right behind him. The lobby was deserted and he saw no sign of Sam, reinforcing his conclusion that she had gone up to one of the rooms with her date. 

It had been a lousy idea to come to the bar. The evening had gone steadily downhill from the moment he’d seen Sam with another man. And now…he couldn’t get the sight of her kissing the suit out of his mind, just the thought of her naked and sweaty in bed with another man ate him up inside. Hell, just the thought of her kissing anyone else ripped him to pieces, merely adding to the sorrow and doubt he already carried. But the pain that gnawed away at his soul was that he had agreed to her plea to leave it in the room….and he reluctantly acknowledged that the least he could do now was respect her decision.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam wrapped her arms around her under the wet poncho, trying to keep warm in the steadily falling rain. It was taking the taxi driver a long time to change the flat. She could probably have done it faster, but she wasn’t exactly dressed for changing a flat tire, after midnight and in the rain. She sighed and wished now that she’d let Ian drive her home, but it had seemed stupid at the time to have him drive her all the way to her house—in the rain—and then drive all the way back to the hotel. Perversely enough, she didn’t know whether to be pleased or disappointed that Ian hadn’t been overly disappointed or unduly upset when his half-hearted romantic overture had been rejected and had merely offered to drive her home.

Ian was a nice guy and she tried to convince herself that if he didn’t live in another state, she would have been more receptive. But she was only kidding herself, she had known before she’d finally given in to Janet and agreed to go out with him that he could be the most perfect man in the entire universe, but he wouldn’t be the perfect man for her. There was only one man who fit that description and she had let that opportunity slip through her fingers—and right into the hands of a drunken blonde.

Sam shivered, the earlier light rain had turned into a steady downpour, the damp and cold starting to seep into her bones. She hadn’t realized just how quiet and deserted the streets could get after midnight—even on a Saturday. They had been pulled over to the side of the road for at least twenty minutes and not a single car had passed them. 

This is getting ridiculous, Sam decided abruptly, reaching into her purse, she was going to call the auto club—or maybe another cab. Flipping open her phone, she paused when she saw the distant flash of lights and then the low growl of a truck. Stepping further back from the side of the road, she waited for it to pass, looking curiously at the driver as he slowed down. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack was cold sober by the time he dropped Teal’c off at the mountain, whatever temporary reprieve the alcohol had given him was long gone. And on top of everything, the clear, mild night and had given way to a cold northwesterly wind; the full moon had disappeared behind the clouds and a steady rain had started to fall. The weather seemed to reflect his mood, the wet and dreary sky a perfect match for the bleakness he felt in his life. It was late, past midnight, and the streets were surprisingly quiet, except for the blinking hazard lights of a vehicle just visible not more than a quarter of a mile away. 

Automatically slowing, Jack soon realized it was a taxi, the driver working in the rain to change a flat tire, his passenger standing nearby in the cold, wet night. The driver seemed to have things under control, so Jack prepared to speed on by when his lights flashed over the passenger and he felt his heart lurch. Slamming on the brakes, the huge truck skidded to a halt on the oil slick street. 

Once he had stopped the truck, Jack felt a brief surge of panic and his hands unconsciously tightened on the steering wheel. This was probably one of the stupider things he’d ever done, but it was too late now. He watched through the rear view mirror while she talked to the driver, still not sure what she would do, when he saw her open her purse and hand the man something. When she started walking to the truck, he reached over and opened the passenger door.

Before the door closed and the interior light winked out, Jack quickly studied her. She wasn’t drenched, but close to it; her hair lay flat and limp against her head, the curl all gone; her sequined and fringed poncho was wet and dripping as well. She looked miserable and chilled to the bone and the momentary panic faded to be replaced with a rush of primitive satisfaction, not because she was wet and chilled, but because fate—or whatever—had delivered her to him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam climbed in to the cab; the warmth surrounded her and she felt some of the chill start to leave, though her clothes still clung clammily to her. He didn’t say anything, merely glanced at her as if satisfying himself she was okay and then put the truck into gear. Hastily fastening the seat belt, she sat back and tried to relax, the atmosphere in the cab was decidedly close and intimate—even with the butterflies currently beating their wings like crazy in her stomach. 

The dashboard lights illuminated his face and she discreetly studied him. He didn’t look any different, even being in street clothes, but something was different; there was something dark and dangerous in his mood now. She’d been reading him too long to not recognize it in the set of his jaw, the sharp, economical motions as he handled the truck on the rain slick streets. She couldn’t help but feel that she should have stayed with the cab driver; being stuck out in the rain would have been infinitely safer than getting into the truck with Jack.

But she was an expert at ignoring the emotions that seemed to swirl around them all the time, so she was determined to act like it was an everyday occurrence for him to pick her up on the side of the road. “Thanks,” she murmured, striving for polite.

He grunted something, which she knew from past experience was designed to be noncommittal.

“The rain was kind of a surprise,” she added a short time later. Silence between them usually didn’t bother her, but tonight on top of everything else, it left her feeling increasingly uncomfortable and it started to fray on her composure.

Again, he merely grunted. Giving up on initiating a conversation when he was apparently falling back on usual procedure of not talking, Sam directed her attention out at the passing streets. Nothing seemed familiar and a subtle panic started to build within her. “Where are you taking me?” she asked sharply. He didn’t answer, making a sharp turn down a quiet residential street where the houses were few and far between. It was only then that she belatedly realized where they were. 

She’d never been to his house at night, she’d not been to his house since Daniel’s wake. Mere moments later, the truck rumbled to a stop in his secluded driveway, and he still hadn’t offered an explanation. She was pissed now. She was cold and wet and not an hour earlier he’d been deep in the clutches of another woman. Her gratitude at his timely rescue now warred with her annoyance at his current high handed manner. 

“Take me home.”

The exterior lights that had flashed on when the truck pulled into the drive illuminated the interior of the cab, but she couldn’t see his eyes when he turned his head, his hands still gripping the steering wheel. “Not gonna’ happen.”

“Fine then,” she snapped, tugging on the door handle. “I’ll find my own way home.” She made it out of the truck and stood in the rain, fumbling in her purse for her cell phone. She’d call Janet and worry later about explanations. The driver’s side door slammed shut and she finally managed to flip her phone open, frustration and anger making her clumsy. She had just started scrolling through her contacts when the phone was plucked out of her fingers.

He stood in front of her, the rain falling down on them, her phone in his hand. “Come inside,” he said quietly. “You’re soaking wet.”

His arrogance was more than she would tolerate and she was all set to rip into him when the look of weary defeat on his face and the tired resignation in his voice finally registered over her anger. It shocked her; his earlier mood seemed to have disappeared and she realized with unexpected insight that he was hurting as much as she was. But that didn’t mean that she was just going to follow him blindly—not this time. Heedless of the rain, she held her ground. “What do you want, Jack?”

There was a brief flash of some dark emotion in his eyes before his expression became remote and she felt like she was back on PX9-997, staring at him through a force field, neither one of them able to acknowledge their true feelings. She shivered, wrapping her arms around her middle in a feeble attempt to conserve the warmth left from the short drive and bolster her sinking spirits in light of his continued silence. Please, sir, she whispered silently, pleading with him, when he finally spoke.

“I want you.”

His voice was flat and his expression told her that he didn’t expect anything back from her. But…it was more than she imagined ever hearing from him and hope slowly unfurled inside her. For now it would be enough—more than enough. A slight smile curved her lips; she knew what to tell him, the truth had never been simpler. “You’ve always had me.”

With her words, some of the tension seemed to ease out his face. “Let’s go inside,” was all he said; and this time she followed.

It was slightly more sheltered on the porch and while he opened the door, Sam wondered what was going to happen next. She felt completely off balance by everything that had gone on since she’d first seen him at the Broadmoor and wasn’t sure what he expected now—or even what she expected in return. It occurred to her, with more melodrama than she liked, that whatever happened in the next few minutes would change her life forever. And then she almost laughed out loud, because her life had changed forever on that day in Apophis’ half finished ship, but neither of them had had the courage to accept the truth of that fundamental shift in their relationship. Which still left her with the question of whether she had that courage now.

Jack unlocked the door and stepped aside, his hand resting lightly on her back as he ushered her in and she stood, dripping water in the foyer while he turned on the light and shrugged out of his jacket. The light gleamed off his hair, contrasting starkly with the black sweater he wore. He was so handsome he made her chest ache, and he had no clue. 

“Silver fox,” she murmured, remembering the drunken Dana’s description of him.

“What?” he asked, slipping his loafers off.

A slow smile danced on her face and she pulled the wet poncho over her head, dropping it carelessly onto the mat by his shoes before answering. “Silver fox,” she said, using her fingers to comb through her wet hair. “It’s what that drunk blonde at the hotel bar called you.”

“How do you….” He paused, raising an eyebrow.

Sam shrugged slightly. “I overheard her in the bathroom.”

“Ah.” He seemed almost embarrassed, a slight flush appeared on his cheeks that she suspected had little to do with the warmth of the house. “About that—“

“Don’t,” she murmured, grabbing hold of her courage and reaching out, she lightly caressed his cheek with trembling fingers. “You don’t have to explain. I understand.” And she did; she’d gone out with Ian for what she suspected were the same reasons he’d been tempted with Dana—as a temporary panacea for what they denied themselves. 

“And your date?” 

Sam’s lips quirked in wry smile; she didn’t begrudge him an explanation, after all, his encounter with Dana had been happenstance while her date had been just that, a date. “Janet’s cousin needed a date.” She shrugged when he raised an eyebrow, her hand fluttering almost awkwardly back down to her side. “And I thought I could make it work.” 

Jack nodded solemnly, one of his hands gently taking hers, his thumb slowly stroking the back of her hand. “You could have made it work. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

His attitude puzzled—and alarmed her. “It would never have worked.” She gripped his fingers tightly. “It couldn’t have, he wasn’t you.” 

The skepticism in his eyes faded into that sad look of regret that she’d first seen when they were out in the rain and she felt like she was losing him all over again. Desperate times call for desperate measures, she decided, starting to feel in control for the first time since she’d seen him in the bar.

With his hand still firmly in hers, Sam closed the short the distance between them, lifting her free hand to his nape. She felt him stiffen, but he didn’t pull away. Ignoring the now cautious look in his eyes, she pressed her lips to his. He tasted like the rain, whiskey and something that she knew was indefinably Jack O’Neill. He stood so still, she could barely feel him breathing. When he remained unmoving beneath her hands and mouth, she molded her lips to his with increasing anxiety, her tongue tracing along his lip in an almost desperate plea for a response.

“Jack,” she whispered raggedly against his lips, “help me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jack imagined that this what an out-of-body experience must feel like, because ever since Sam had pressed her lips to his, he felt like he was in a dream and would awaken any minute now to his large, empty bed. He’d certainly run the gamut of emotions as far as she was concerned tonight and when he’d seen her by the side of the road, he should have just driven on. But, he hadn’t…he’d done something far riskier, he’d brought her home. Part of him wanted to punish her for daring to go out with another man while the more rational part of him acknowledged her right to move on and leave the confessions made in that infernal room far behind her. 

Regardless of his motives, she was where he had longed for her to be—in his home and in his arms; her helpless plea against his lips finally roused him from his lethargy. She was offering him something remarkable and he didn’t have the strength to refuse her. Before the potential implications of his next action could dissuade him, Jack wrapped his arms around her. He could feel the damp from her dress seeping through his sweater. Sliding one large hand through her wet hair, he answered her plea, taking control of the kiss.

Sam’s mouth was cool beneath his and when he ran his tongue along her lips, she opened them with a soft sigh. Her taste was intoxicating, the passion racing through his blood faster and harder than the three scotches he’d downed earlier. But the rapidly building desire hadn’t clouded his mind; he was completely in control and he needed to be absolutely sure. Gradually easing back on the kiss, he cradled her face between his hands. Her eyes slowly opened and what he saw in them filled him with amazement. 

She didn’t look afraid or worried or repulsed or anything else that might convince him she didn’t want this as much as he did; on the contrary, she looked like a woman in love. A tiny frown crossed her face and the love he saw in her eyes was unexpectedly tempered by uncertainty. “Jack…” she stammered softly, “is something wrong?”

“Not a thing,” he rumbled, “not a damn thing.” She squeaked when he abruptly swept her up into his arms, her arms looping tightly around his neck. 

He chuckled quietly, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead as she settled into his arms, her face pressed into his throat, before walking purposefully down the dimly-lit hall straight to his bedroom. Shouldering the door open, he deftly maneuvered both of them through the doorway and into the dark room. Jack carefully lowered Sam to her feet, enjoying the exquisite feel of her as she slid against him. However, he was just as forcibly reminded of the wet state of her dress and his own damp clothing. 

Momentarily leaving her, he quickly switched on the bedside lamp, pulling his sweater off while he detoured to the bathroom and grabbed several towels. When he returned she still stood where he’d left her, a quick smile lighting her face when she saw him with the towels. 

“Good idea,” she murmured, taking the towel he handed her.

“Can’t have you catching a cold.” He tossed the towel he held down onto the bed. “Turn around.” She paused from drying her hair and gave him a curious look from under messy bangs, but did as he asked. 

Unable to resist the temptation, he kissed her nape and he smiled when she shivered. She shivered again and then went perfectly still when he slid his fingers along the neckline of her dress, first slipping the hook-and-eye free and then slowly lowering the zipper. The dress opened almost to the small of her back and he leisurely pushed the edges open until it was barely hanging from her shoulders, revealing the smooth, pale skin of her back. She still hadn’t moved, though her chest rose and fell more rapidly and Jack could feel an answering urgency of his own.

Her bra was black, and what he could see of it, was lacy. He wasn’t all that surprised to notice that his fingers trembled when he slipped the hooks free, leaving the ends hanging free. With gentle pressure on her shoulders, she turned and before he could say anything, she tossed the towel she’d been using aside and let the dress fall from her shoulders.

Jack had seen her wearing little more than a tank top and work-out shorts on numerous occasions, but the sight of her standing in his bedroom, her dress and bra straps hanging wantonly off her shoulders, revealing the creamy flesh of her throat and chest had him aching with arousal. With still trembling fingers, he lightly traced her collar bones with his fingers before helping to ease her arms free of the now clammy material. With a subtle shimmy, the dress dropped to her ankles. Jack vaguely registered that she had on some sort of lacy black slip, but once he had made his initial survey, his attention was immediately drawn back to her beautiful breasts.

Reaching out, he touched her, his hand looking dark and rough compared to the smooth expanse of her creamy white skin. But it was with exquisite tenderness that he lightly caressed her breasts. Her nipples were already tightly puckered, more from the cold he knew, than any arousal, her skin still felt slightly damp. 

Picking up the discarded towel, he began drying her, rubbing the towel over her shoulders before using a gentler touch across her breasts, taking his time and thoroughly caressing her in the process. When he was satisfied that she was dry, Jack wrapped the towel around her and keeping a firm grip on the ends, pulled her close. “Better?”

“Hmm…” she murmured before nuzzling his throat, her hands worming their way under his T-shirt, tugging and pulling at it. Quickly realizing her intent, Jack dropped the towel and helped her, his T-shirt soon joining the towel on the floor. Immediately pulling her back into his arms, Jack found his earlier patience rapidly fleeing when flesh met flesh for the first time. He felt like he’d been waiting a lifetime to hold her…touch her...kiss her. Their lips met with a mutual hunger that shredded his control. Jack ignored her soft whimper of protest when he broke the kiss, lifting her again and carrying her the few steps to the bed.

Bracing himself with one knee on the mattress, Jack carefully lowered her down on the bed. She looked utterly delectable, laying on the bed, her lips red from his kisses and her eyes begging for more. But they both still had on too many clothes. Jack realized vaguely she’d lost her shoes somewhere between the front hall and the bedroom, so it was easy enough to remove her slip and panty hose, revealing her creamy flesh inch by delectable inch.

Jack stood up then, never taking his eyes off her. She lay proudly before him, not putting on a show of false modesty or any coy attempts to cover her from him. She simply lay there waiting for him, her eyes just as hungry as his while she watched him finish undressing. Jack never thought about his body too much, he accepted his physical strength and the need to keep fit; but he was sometimes painfully aware that he wasn’t getting any younger. So when he saw the look of approval in Sam’s eyes as they swept over his body, he was strangely gratified—and highly aroused, though he seriously doubted he could be anymore aroused than he already was. With a low groan, Jack lowered his all too eager body onto the bed, where she welcomed him with open arms.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s unease didn’t melt away until she was back in his arms, part of her still afraid that he would change his mind or decide that the risks were too great. But she needn’t have worried, his large body covering her and pressing her into the mattress. His mouth descended to hers and she just caught a glimpse of the dark passion burning in his eyes before his mouth claimed hers. The utter possessiveness of his kiss and touch would have frightened her, if not for the fact that she felt the same fierce emotion rising in her, all the force shields separating them had finally shattered.

As much as Sam wanted to savor each and every touch and caress, she was soon helplessly caught up in her lover’s overwhelming passion. His touch was confident and sure, there was no hesitation, and Sam responded in kind, reveling in the freedom to caress him; to run her fingers through his hair, score her nails across his nape and stroke the firm muscles of his back. 

When Jack settled more heavily on her, one strong hand moving with excruciating slowness down her hip, it took very little urging for her to bend her knees and cradle him between her thighs. Her senses were on fire and she felt hyperaware, totally focused on the man in her arms. She wanted to remember this moment forever; the way his hair gleamed silver from the light, the feel of his mouth on her breasts, the brush of his hair-roughened legs against the sensitive skin of her inner thighs and the press of his engorged penis against her belly.

But it couldn’t last forever, not when it seemed like they’d already been waiting an eternity. Even though she expected it, she still gasped softly when his fingers probed carefully through her slick folds. It was almost too much, his tentative touch setting off soft tremors of response radiating through her entire body. Jack stilled; his large hand cupped her gently and his eyes flew to hers. She could never be scared of him, but she had been totally unprepared for the strength of their passion…and what she saw mirrored in his eyes reassured her that she wasn’t alone. 

“Don’t stop,” she breathed softly, tilting her pelvis and pressing against his hand. His dark eyes flashed with fierce desire and this time when his hand moved, she could only moan his name. She was more than ready when his stroking fingers were replaced with his penis, her legs wrapping lightly around him and her eyes never leaving his—her only anchor in the passion that threatened to consume them both.

It was the purest form of torture as he slowly pressed into her, yet she would never have it end. The pains and sorrows of the past faded into insignificance, the only thing that mattered was him and the incredible sensations flowing through him and into her. Whatever awkwardness that might have existed between them this first time was short lived and they moved together with an unexpected ease and familiarity. It should have surprised her, but didn’t. Hadn’t she been following his lead for almost four years now?

First times being what they were—even first times with the man for whom she’d been waiting her entire life—Sam wasn’t expecting fireworks. It was satisfaction enough that she finally held him in her arms and within her body. But apparently Jack was not a man to be denied, so when she felt the first flutter of impending release low in her belly, she was caught unawares. It seemed he already knew her body better than she knew it herself; his movements and sure touch transforming her initial arousal into something more. 

Deliberately letting go, Sam allowed him complete access to her heart and soul, acknowledging on a physical level what she already knew to be true on a cognitive level—that they had been destined for this moment and for each other since the day they had first met. Conscious thought was swept away by the amazing sensations cascading through her; her powerful release a testament to the connection between them. 

On a subliminal level she was vividly aware of Jack’s release, of the moment he had surrendered and followed her into ecstasy, the low groan that was her name chasing after her soft cries. Remnants of pleasure rippled through her trembling limbs while she held him in the aftermath, savoring the intensely intimate moments as he lay against her, both of them replete with satisfaction. Her hands stroked soothingly over his back, his shoulders, through his hair. 

A curious calm filled her as they lay still entwined, the time for caution long gone. She hadn’t admitted it during that dark time months earlier when facing Anise; instead making a conscious decision to use his words, because they were true for her as well. But now she was free to speak the words that mattered. “I love you.” 

Her hand slipped from his hair and down his back when he shifted, turning his face into the curve of her throat. She felt the soft press of his lips against her skin, his voice a low rumble. “How long?”

It was an odd question, but she answered immediately. “Forever.”

Jack shifted to move off her and she reluctantly released him. He loomed over her, propped up on one elbow, his other hand moving in a lingering caress across her cheek before he spoke. “Then why did we wait so long?”

He knew the answer to that as well as she did. Her lips curved in a half smile, her shoulders lifting in a brief shrug. “Desperate times.” 

Jack O’Neill was anything but stupid, and she could tell by the dawning awareness in his eyes that he knew exactly what she meant. His smile turned all lazy and his hand trailed lightly down her throat to rest warmly against her breast, his thumb brushing idly over her nipple. “So…you were desperate?”

Sam’s toes curled at the look in eyes; the simple caress re-igniting the desire she thought had been—at least temporarily—quenched. Looping her arms around his neck, she grinned up at him. “For you? Always.” 

THE END


End file.
